Broomsticks and Badges
by catherine ampere
Summary: Our favorite agents go to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part ll.


**So I know I said I wasn't writing anything because I'm supposed to be preparing for one of the most important tests I'll ever take, but I couldn't help it. I'm so freaking jealous that I'm not at the premiere of Harry Potter tonight that I just had to write about it. This is just some silly stuff in honor of the momentous occasion.**

* * *

><p>Ziva looked in the mirror and nodded with satisfaction. Her hair was exactly the way she wanted it to look, her outfit was flawless, and her face exuded a youthful glow. She rolled her eyes when she heard him knocking for the fourth time.<p>

"I will be right out, Tony," she sighed. "Is there something you need?"

"Nope," he popped the "p" like he did when he wanted to drive her nuts.

She ignored him and adjusted her hair one last time before she smiled excitedly. She began to hum the familiar tune to herself in preparation, but her melody went unfinished as Tony knocked on the door again.

"I'm sorry," he said hastily. "But your date just parked his car."

She paid no attention to his teasing and thrust the door open. He temporarily blinded her with the flash of his camera as he captured her ensemble.

"You look absolutely bewitching," he quipped.

"Tony, I can't see a thing."

"Well I assure you, my dear," he charmed in his most convincing British accent, "you are positively enchanting."

She went straight for his gut and he doubled over with dramatic flair.

"Are you done?"

He smiled impishly and kissed her cheek. He wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered into her ear.

"Not by a long shot."

She narrowed her eyes and stomped on his toe. He yelped and began to hop in place.

"A curse on both your houses!" he spat.

She turned and smiled wickedly.

"First off, it is 'plague,' not 'curse,' and we are both in the same house. And that's Shakespeare."

Tony's jaw dropped and she couldn't help but shin with satisfaction.

"That's the first time you've ever corrected me! Mazel tov."

"Toda."

He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

"My little girl is all grown up and ready to fly the coop."

"You are impossible!" she hissed, only half-annoyed by his jokes. The other half was thoroughly amused.

The doorbell rang and Tony danced giddily.

"He's here! He's here!"

"Shh," she waved him off as she greeted her guest.

"Hello, Tim," she smiled.

McGee returned her greeting warmly.

"You look great, Ziva! You're a dead ringer."

Tony scoffed.

"Except she's two shades darker."

She shrugged, otherwise unfazed by the discrepancy.

"I am Hermione if she went tanning in the Grand Canary Islands."

Both Tony and McGee laughed. She simply shrugged.

"I do not know what is so funny," she clipped, "you are not exactly Neville's long lost twin."

McGee looked down at his dress robes and crossed his arms unhappily.

"That's not fair! I don't know how Neville dresses!"

"Like a wizard, McMagic. How hard can it be?"

"I am wearing a dress robe, too, if you hadn't noticed," she laughed. "I was only joking with you. You did a good job."

He puffed his chest out and stood a little taller. He was proud of his costume—he'd gone to a professional theatre shop and had them help him with Neville's look. He'd followed the book's description to a T and thought he looked pretty damn close.

"I must admit, I am pretty proud of my hair," Ziva gloated as she fluffed her poufy tresses. "This took a lot of time."

Tony scoffed again.

"That's what you look like when you wake up in the morning."

She shot him a dirty look and McGee cleared his throat to preemptively break the tension.

"We better go," he scrambled, "we want to get a good seat."

Tony gave Ziva a quick kiss goodbye before they headed out. He shut the door and laughed good-naturedly at his crazy family. _Federal Agents in their early thirties and they're racing to the midnight showing of Harry Potter_, he shook his head with affection as he thought to himself. _I'm surrounded by nerds._

"I am so excited!" Ziva gushed. "We have waited so long for this!"

McGee couldn't help but match her excitement. He scored tickets months ago from his publisher and kept them as a surprise. He loved having friends who genuinely shared his interests, and Ziva definitely fit the bill. Despite her initial snubbing of the books, she reluctantly admitted her secret adoration for all things J.K. Rowling. Since then they'd openly embraced their Potterhead tendencies and relished in the new unveiling of books and movies.

"It gets better," he promised. "Just wait."

She eyed him suspiciously but said no more. Instead, she turned up the volume on his car radio as they both added words to the Hedwig's Theme.

"We're wizzzzards and we like to caaaaast spells," McGee and Ziva sang to the tune. She ignored the way his voice cracked as he finished the lyrics; the pitch was a bit high for him. "Hogwarts, we call our home."

When they got to the theater, Ziva could barely contain herself. She buzzed the whole way from the car to the box office, but her face dropped when she took notice of the never-ending line.

"Tim," she stated despondently. "Look at all these people. We will never get a good seat."

He grabbed her arm and pointed to the back of a tall man, about tenth in line, wearing dress robes and juggling three broomsticks.

"I called in some reinforcements."

Palmer turned and waved when he caught sight of them. He pushed his glasses higher on his nose with his free hand.

"It's like he has extendable ears!" McGee noted in astonishment.

Ziva winked.

"Have you seen his real ones? I do not think he needs those."

McGee choked back a laugh as they met up with Palmer. He handed them each their broomsticks and greeted them happily.

"This is so exciting," he chirped. "I can't believe I'm going to the midnight showing! We're twentieth in line! Isn't this so great?"

"Jimmy, there are only nine people in front of you."

He frowned.

"They're spot-holders."

Ziva's nostrils flared and her face reddened. Both men could tell that a string of incensed Hebrew would rush out any minute.

"This is so unfair! They are not even here! Unbelievable," she hissed.

"Ziva, don't worry about it," McGee soothed. "I have one more surprise."

Ziva looked at Jimmy, but he simply shrugged. He hadn't known the surprise, either, just as McGee intended.

"I had Jimmy hold our spots just in case it fell through, but I checked with my publisher and got the go-ahead."

He led them off the line and right up to the box office. He ignored the grumbles from the rest of the crowd as he knocked on the glass.

"Sold out," the ticketholder barked. "Next showing's a week from now."

Tim cleared his throat and used his most authoritative voice.

"My name is Thom Gemcity, I believe my publisher left me three tickets for the midnight show."

The ticketholder's face paled—as much as a face can with rosacea and acne can—and he straightened up in his seat.

"Mr. Gemcity," he stammered. "I'm a huge fan."

"If you were such a fan you'd recognize him," Jimmy added. The rest of his comebacks were ceased by a nudge in the ribs from Ziva.

The ticketholder handed McGee the tickets and got the attention of an usher.

"Maria will show you to your seats," he smiled.

He couldn't stop himself, so he asked him a final question.

"If you're so famous, how come you didn't go to the premiere like all the other stars?"

McGee blushed furiously. Jimmy couldn't help but feel sorry for his generous friend. Before he could stick up for him, Ziva stepped forward and took hold of Tim's hand.

"Because I am not used to the attention," she purred, "and my dear Thom was trying to be thoughtful. I get moonstruck around him, so I knew that I would not be able to handle meeting the movie stars." She laughed flippantly. "Although Gary Oldman will not stop calling me. A few dates two years ago and he does not realize that I'm happily taken."

McGee didn't miss a beat. He laughed and gazed at her adoringly.

"It's _star struck_, Sweet Cheeks."

She smiled back sweetly.

"Of course."

They followed the usher to their theater. McGee couldn't wipe the shit-eating grin off his face; he owed her a lifetime's worth of exclusive tickets for the stunt she just pulled. _This is what real friends do_, he mused. _I'm so lucky_.

"Thanks for that," he whispered when they were nestled in their seats.

She smiled genuinely.

"You are very welcome, Tim. Thanks again for the tickets. I prefer these anyway. It is way more fun to dress up. But if you call me Sweet Cheeks again, I will castrate you."

He gulped.

"You let Tony call you that."

"I know," she smirked.

"Speaking of dressing up," Jimmy chimed in, "how's my scar?"

McGee inspected the lightning bolt and nodded approvingly.

"Perfectly off-centered."

"Great," he sighed. "I didn't want to be the chump with the incorrectly-placed scar."

He stood from his chair and fished for his wallet under his robes.

"I'm going to get some snacks. Anyone want anything? I'm buying."

"Popcorn."

"Diet Coke."

"Sprite."

"Raisinettes."

Jimmy got momentarily frazzled but smiled nonetheless. He left his seats and hoped he wouldn't forget anything.

McGee turned in his seat and raised an eyebrow.

"Gary Oldman, huh? Tony would be impressed."

Ziva smiled at him.

"He taught me everything I know."

"Thanks for before, seriously," he changed his tone. "I probably could've gotten us tickets if I really begged her, but—"

"Do not worry about it. He was just being a douche, yes?"

McGee barked back laughter. He forgot how funny she could be when the moment was just right.

"Tony taught you that word, too, didn't he?"

She shrugged.

"I heard two men arguing on the metro."

Jimmy returned minutes later with his hands full of delicious movie treats. McGee got up to help him distribute the snacks and everyone settled in before the doors opened and the rest of the crowd entered the theater.

The lights dimmed and the room buzzed with excitement. Each trailer built the anticipation until the moment finally came.

When the Warner Brothers logo flashed on the screen, Ziva grabbed McGee's radius involuntarily. He yelped and she released her grip, extremely apologetic for letting her excitement get the better of her.

"Oh my God, any minute!" Jimmy leaned over and squealed.

They laughed, they cried, they screamed and shouted. When the credits rolled and the lights turned on, every single moviegoer stood and clapped vigorously. Ziva discreetly wiped the tears from her eyes and sought her friends' opinions. She turned to face two openly sobbing men clutching each other's arms for support. She could kick herself for not bringing her camera.

"I can't believe it's all over," McGee wailed. "It's over."

"It was just so beautiful," Jimmy mourned between sobs. "I…just can't."

Ziva barely hid her smirk.

"Do you two need a moment alone?"

McGee gaped at her seemingly dry face.

"How are you not crying like a baby right now?"

She shrugged innocently.

"Grief affects people in different ways."

They left the movie and parted with Jimmy. He continued to express his endless gratitude for McGee's favor and couldn't wait to tell Breena all about it when he got home. McGee and Ziva hopped in his car, taking turns mentioning their favorite parts. It was hard to get a word in edgewise because both were so eager to discuss their thoughts.

"I really loved Molly Weasley's famous line," McGee gushed. "Not my daughter, you bitch!"

Ziva bellowed and threw her head against the headrest.

"Personally, I loved the part when Harry goes to die."

He gulped.

"That's kind of sad."

"Not at all. It was beautiful. He got to see the faces of all the loved ones he lost. They provided him comfort in the most horrifying of situations."

She didn't need to say more. McGee shared a friendly, heartfelt smile and enjoyed the moment of silence.

"I also loved when Jimmy cried out, 'No, Snape, don't die on me!' as he died," she laughed. "The girl behind him was so angry."

McGee shuddered at the memory. The young moviegoer got mad, and when Jimmy turned to snap at her, her giant father intervened and they were both sure that Palmer probably wet his pants.

"I refuse to see another movie with him. He can't control himself!"

They laughed and continued to rehash the movie all the way back to Ziva's apartment. She hugged McGee as she left his car and thanked him for a great evening.

"I wonder how many times Gibbs will yell at us for making Harry Potter references at work," McGee mused.

She sighed.

"Almost as many times as Tony will make dirty jokes about riding his broomstick when I walk through that door."

"Muggles," he shook his head. "They just don't understand."

* * *

><p><strong>Mischief managed.<strong>


End file.
